


The Maker

by LadyRazorsharp



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Friends With Benefits, Futuristic, In Vitro, Lab Partners, M/M, Research Project, Science Fiction, Test subject, john and gordon aren't related in this one, m/m relationship, scifi medicine, super human
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 13:35:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17788364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyRazorsharp/pseuds/LadyRazorsharp
Summary: Gordon Tracy and his research partner (and lover) Hiram Hackenbacker are embarked upon a research project to help humanity. To that end, they are growing a human being--a man, whom Gordon names 'John.' Everything is going just as planned, except...Hiram has fallen in love with Gordon....but Gordon is falling in love with John.





	The Maker

**Author's Note:**

  * For [meikahidenori](https://archiveofourown.org/users/meikahidenori/gifts).



**Warning: Character death, semi-explicit M/M sex.**

 

**The Maker**

_Inspired by meikahidenori’s art piece, ‘Hardwired’_

 

The being floating in the cylinder was a pale sliver of flesh, all long limbs and graceful fingers. A cloud of copper hair swam around its ears, delicate copper brows arching above lashes fanned on its high cheekbones. The face, with its beautiful sloping nose and determined chin, was relaxed and serene, head bowed slightly toward its chest.

“Is he sleeping?”

One white-coated technician came to stand beside the other, and together they gazed up at the ethereal form. “More like suspended animation,” said the first, adjusting his blue-framed glasses on his earth-toned nose. “It’s actually sexless at the moment, but we could change that.” The sepia eyes behind the glasses gained a twinkle of amusement. “I think I know what your preference would be.”

The other flashed him a grin of perfect white teeth, amber irises alight. “Could we?” He looked back up at the alabaster figure before him, and laid hesitant hands on the warm glass. “He’s...amazing.”

The technician smiled, though his colleague didn’t see the sadness at its edges. “Of course,” he said aloud, and went to the terminal to make a small, but crucial adjustment to the synthetic hormones flowing into the being’s veins. His fingers hesitated over the input for just a moment, then gave the machine final permission to do as he bade. In just a few moments, the being’s features began to sharpen, the shoulders to widen, the chest to flatten and define over a concave abdomen. The figure grimaced and thrashed, and the other’s pleasure darkened into concern. He gave a gasp and pressed himself flatter against the cylinder.

“I didn’t meant to hurt him,” he crooned.

“It would have happened either way; in fact, this might be the easier path.” The lenses flashed with the reflection of the lighted pillar. “The process will be complete in a few hours.”

A smile returned to the amber eyes, and he ran a hand through his honey-blond mop, letting his fingers catch in the thick waves atop his head. “I can’t wait to meet him.”

The first smiled despite himself; his fellow’s enthusiasm was catching. “He needs a name. What do you want to call him?”

The blond stood gazing up at the redhead for a long moment. “John,” he said softly. “His name is John.”

A quiet rattle of keys, and the being twitched slightly as the information was coded into its brain. “John it is,” said the technician.

 OoOoOoO

 Gordon didn’t know how long he stood there beside the cylinder, but it seemed like time had stopped as he gazed up at the beautiful face and lithe frame. “John,” he whispered, the sound bouncing back to him from the glass. “John.”

As he stared, the copper-fringed lashes flickered, rising slowly to reveal irises of brilliant turquoise. For several heartbeats, they looked into each other’s eyes, and Gordon forgot how to breathe as one long slender hand rested against his on the other side of the glass.

_\--Gordon--_

The blond’s jaw dropped as his name echoed in his mind. Before him, the redhead smiled, and with a shock, Gordon realized the being _\--John--_ had spoken the word. The other hand came up, and Gordon pressed his palm on the glass. “Oh, God,” Gordon breathed, tears trembling in his voice. “You are so beautiful.”

 With a flash, the glass burst into a million shimmering particles that drifted in the air like fireflies. John landed gracefully on his bare feet against the bottom of the cylinder, then rolled up into his full height.  Gordon took a step backward as John stepped down from the confines of the chamber that had birthed him.

“Gor-don,” intoned John, advancing on the blond. “Gordon.” His soft tenor voice was hesitant at first, but gained in confidence. _“Gordon.”_

The name’s owner continued to back up as John approached, stopping when his back hit the laboratory wall. “John,” he murmured, his breath coming in accelerated gasps as the other moved within his space.

Pale, slender hands rose to Gordon’s shoulders, exploring the fabric there, then continued to the neck sloping into the collar of his lab coat. He smiled when his fingers met warm flesh, his pleasure evident as Gordon tilted his head and closed his eyes, inviting the cool touch against his skin.

Gordon brought trembling hands up to cover John’s as the redhead’s left hand explored the tanned cheek, the golden fringe of lashes, the blond arch of eyebrow. When John’s right thumb skimmed Gordon’s lips, the blond felt as if his heart would beat right out of his chest, and he dragged his eyes open to search the pale face before him.

The redhead’s thumb plucked gently at the swollen lower lip beneath it, then slipped his forefinger into Gordon’s mouth, smile returning at the warm wetness it found inside. Gordon groaned, unable to help curling his tongue around the slender digit.

“Gordon.” The finger was removed to brush wetly along the side of the blond’s face. “Gordon.”

“I don’t care if you learn any other words,” Gordon said, voice soft as he played his fingers against John’s cheek. “You could say my name a million times and I’d never get tired of hearing you say it.”

John smiled, touching Gordon’s lips again, eyebrows rising as Gordon kissed his fingertip.

“Kiss,” Gordon said, repeating the gesture. He raised a hand to lay a finger against John’s lips, and to his amazement, the thin, pale mouth pursed in mimic. Gordon laid his finger back against his own lips, kissed it, and then laid it against John’s mouth. “A kiss from me.”

“Kiss.” John touched his own lips, as if expecting to feel evidence of Gordon’s kiss there. When he felt nothing but his own lips, the brows puckered in confusion.

His heart hammering against his ribs again, Gordon eased his hands up to either side of John’s face, and gently brought them nose to nose. “Kiss,” he breathed, and pressed his mouth against John’s.

The redhead went absolutely still, as if trying to puzzle out the sensations he was experiencing. In a moment, however, he pressed back, his mouth opening slightly as Gordon’s slid and searched. John’s hands moved up Gordon’s arms, coming to rest on his shoulders, and then his arms went around Gordon’s wiry frame.

“Ohh,” the blond moaned into John’s mouth. “Oh, John.”

“Gordon.” John’s hand came up to touch Gordon’s neck again, slipping inside his shirt, palm searing its way across his chest. He dipped his hand lower, fingers finding the nipple and prodding it in curiosity. Gordon felt John smile as the nipple hardened beneath his touch, eliciting a longer moan. In a moment, John’s lips left his as he bent down to cover the sensitive skin with his mouth, pulling aside the fabric to lave it with the tip of his tongue.

Gordon whimpered, sliding a hand into his pants in an attempt to ease the growing ache at his core. John straightened, watching the action, and once again mimicked Gordon’s motion. The turquoise eyes grew even wider as his questing fingers found the bundle of hard, yet yielding flesh between Gordon’s thighs.

 _"Gentle,”_ Gordon choked. He pressed John’s hand against him, making deliberate movements. _“Slow.”_

John did as he was taught, his eyes cataloging every movement, every expression from the man before him. As the body beneath his hands grew ever more rigid, the breaths coming faster and deeper, John quickened the speed of his movements, and bent to capture Gordon’s mouth with another kiss.

Without warning, fire burst behind Gordon’s eyes, and he cried out, body arching. “John!” he gasped, wave after wave of sweet agony rolling over him. Too soon, the stars ceased to burst in his vision, and he slumped against the redhead, panting as if he’d run a marathon. “Ssstop,” he slurred, grabbing John’s thin wrist and removing the grasping digits from his body.

John withdrew his hand, turning his gaze upon the sticky white substance that dripped between his fingers. Curious, he sniffed it, then tasted it, letting the fluid drip onto his tongue.

With drowsiness beginning to descend upon his buzzing brain, Gordon watched as John licked up the result of their encounter, giving the redhead a drunken smile at John’s messy face. John leaned forward and kissed Gordon again, giving the blond a taste of himself.

“Gordon.” His name was the last thing he heard before drifting into the darkness.

 OoOoOoOoO

 “Gordon.”

He jolted awake. When had he fallen asleep? “John?”

Blue-framed glasses, mahogany skin, sepia eyes. “No, it’s me, Hiram.”

“Hiram.” Gordon sat up, frowning at the sorrow on his friend’s face. “What’s happened?”

“John...he’s very sick.” Hiram closed his eyes briefly. “Something’s wrong; I think the DNA replication sequence was corrupted somehow.”

“No,” Gordon breathed. “No, you checked it. I checked it, it was working just fine, it was perfect.” He scrambled to his feet and hurried to the console, calling up the sequences. “It’s perfect, he’s perfect.”

“He’s dying, Gordon.” A sob. “I’m s-sorry.”

Gordon felt his heart sink to his knees. “Where...where is he?”

Hiram grabbed his hand. “I’ll show you.”  He led the blond to the room next door, where a slender body lay on an exam table, draped in white. “He doesn’t have long.”

John was so still that for a moment, Gordon was sure he was too late, but then the turquoise eyes opened and caught sight of him. “Gor-don,” he whispered.

“I’m here.” Gordon took the slack hand in his, forcing himself to not recoil at the icy flesh. He shot a glance at Hiram, who shook his head.

“It’s like he’s a quadriplegic,” said the scientist. “I don’t think he has any sensation below his clavicle.”

“It’s okay,” Gordon soothed, caressing the fringe of copper hair back from the high forehead. “It’s all right. You’re perfect just the way you are.”

John smiled. “Kiss,” he said, the smile widening slightly as Gordon’s brows rose.

“You...did you give me that dream?” Gordon felt his heart split in half. “You...you knew you wouldn’t make it, so…” His smile trembled. “Thank you.” He leaned forward and kissed John’s cold lips. “Thank you.”

“Gordon.” John sighed, and was still.

“John,” Gordon sobbed. “Goodbye, John.”

 OoOoOoOoOo

 “Gordon.”

“Huh?” Gordon jolted awake once more, tears rolling down his cheeks. “Where’s John?”

Hiram’s brows met, and he stared at his colleague for a moment before raising his eyes to the intact cylinder on the console before them. Gordon followed his gaze, and felt his throat close up as he beheld John floating there, as serene and beautiful as always. “I don’t understand,” the blond whispered, palm flattening against the barrier.

“What’s wrong?”

Gordon rested his forehead against the warm glass. “Nothing, I...nothing.” He shut his eyes and took a few deep breaths. “I had a dream that the experiment...failed.”

“Oh.” Hiram cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. That must have been distressing.”

Gordon nodded wordlessly, trying to believe the evidence of his eyes. John was still here. He was still alive. They still had a chance.

Hiram put a hand on Gordon’s shoulder. “We have work to do,” he said softly. “The direct education program needs to be completed, and the diagnostics have to a final run-through.” He smiled. “We’ll install his port after he’s born. Imagine being able to walk into a hospital or a doctor’s office, plug in, and have a scan to pinpoint your ailment.”

It was the entire reason for the experiment, Gordon reminded himself, with another glance at John’s sleeping form. “Yeah, that’ll be something.”

Hiram joined him at the cylinder, resting his own hand on the glass. “You were right; he’s amazing.”

Gordon couldn’t put his finger on it, but something in Hiram’s tone made him want to spirit John away. _Ridiculous_ , Gordon thought, watching his colleague stare up at John. Both of them had jumped at the chance to be involved in the project. They’d been given the grant with only the goal of helping others in mind, and had watched John grow from a fertilized cell in vitro to the beautiful creature before them. What normally took years only took months, as John grew at a rapid pace thanks to his specially encoded DNA.

“Why don’t we get some dinner?” Hiram suggested. “How about that French place? You liked that.”

It was on the tip of Gordon’s tongue to say, _I don’t want to go anywhere_ , but his colleague’s expression was so earnest, he couldn’t refuse. “Sure, that’s fine.” He forced himself to walk away from the cylinder and not look back.

  
Later that night, Gordon lay beside Hiram, his body slowly coming down from the intense session he’d put the scientist through since their return from dinner. His physical need might be sated, but if he was truthful with himself, he wished that it were John who lay next to him.

Gordon glanced down at the sleeping scientist, who looked much younger than his years when not hiding behind his glasses. Hiram was shy around most people, but they’d found a mutual passion both in and out of the laboratory, and the past few months had been exciting ones. Hiram was a good guy, Gordon mused, his eyes wandering over the slender, compact form sprawled across his chest. Quirky and blindingly intelligent, yet kind and selfless, Hiram would make the ideal husband. In fact, Gordon thought, a smile ghosting across his face, he’d thought about asking Hiram to marry him, once or twice. _You could do worse_ , a voice in his mind whispered.

Somewhere along the line, though, Gordon’s eyes had drifted from his research partner to their subject. He wasn’t sure when that had happened, only that more and more lately, his fantasies had run in the direction of his dream that afternoon.

Maybe that was it, he thought, shifting slightly under Hiram’s weight. Maybe it was just fantasy, no real love there. John wouldn’t know how to love. He’d know the word and the concept, but he would never have given or received it. There was no way he’d know how to kiss or to touch or to make love to another person, although he’d learn all those things just as a normal human would--albeit in the confines of a laboratory.

_So why do I want to be the one to teach him?_

Poor Hiram, he mused. He’d all but pounced on the scientist when they’d returned from dinner, pushing him up against the wall and shoving his tongue down his throat. Normally reserved to the point of seeming standoffish, Hiram had responded in kind, his quick hands making short work of Gordon’s buttons and zippers until he stood revealed to the hot tongue and nimble fingers. With John’s face in his mind and Hiram’s mouth on his body, Gordon had succumbed quickly that first time, leaving them both gasping yet wanting more.

Then it had been Hiram’s turn, sinking deeply into Gordon, his earth-toned skin flushed dusky with heat as his chest pressed against Gordon’s back. It hadn’t taken long for him, either, and soon he was crying out, shuddering with release. Gordon wasted no time in returning the favor, emptying himself into Hiram with a force that stole the breath from both of them. Afterward, the ache had dwindled into a ticklish warmth, and now he lay drowsing, thoughts of John and Hiram accompanying him down into sleep.

 _Tomorrow,_ he said to himself, as Hiram’s arms tightened around him. He’d think about it more tomorrow.


End file.
